"You're not here," an indignant voice said into her ear. Isabella rolled her eyes as she exchanged the phone between her hands. "I know I am not there," she cooed in return, as if she actually had any concern for the recipient's feelings. Golden eyes glanced out of window of the cab, watching street signs pass as they trudged along to her destination. The continued complaints of her call went mostly ignored. The unpleasant whining of a companion she was close growing tired of. Which was easy to do when she had so many to choose from.
She hung up as the taxi came to a stop, no longer interested in trying to mend a fragile ego as she looked upon her destination. The Devil's Toboggan. As nondescript as she'd heard from eavesdropping on some of the clerks in her office. She had been unwilling to join them for the outing they were planning for that weekend. Both because she was their boss, and because she did not like them.
Besides, administrating a hospital did not give her time off for weekends, but it did allow her the occasional weekday. She pushed a handful of bills into the driver's outstretched hand, mumbling a thanks as she took hold of her belongings and stepped out of the vehicle. Black platform heels were noisy as she crossed the sidewalk, pulled open the door and disappeared into the building.
Isabella didn't bother to scan the room. There was only a casual gathering of other patrons. Which didn't surprise her, given the night of the week. She set her sights on the bar, and within moments, she was perched upon one of the red leather stools. She shrugged out of her coat, and let it fall over the back of the chair. White and black wool, in a houndstooth pattern that matched the black pencil skirt and white blouse that she also wore.
"Amaretto sour," she requested, not looking up from where she was fingering through her wallet to find her ID. She doubted she would have to do little else to catch the bartender's attention, given the sad state of occupancy. She slid the driver's license across the bar where it could be picked up. "Also, can I smoke in here?"
She hung up as the taxi came to a stop, no longer interested in trying to mend a fragile ego as she looked upon her destination. The Devil's Toboggan. As nondescript as she'd heard from eavesdropping on some of the clerks in her office. She had been unwilling to join them for the outing they were planning for that weekend. Both because she was their boss, and because she did not like them.
Besides, administrating a hospital did not give her time off for weekends, but it did allow her the occasional weekday. She pushed a handful of bills into the driver's outstretched hand, mumbling a thanks as she took hold of her belongings and stepped out of the vehicle. Black platform heels were noisy as she crossed the sidewalk, pulled open the door and disappeared into the building.
Isabella didn't bother to scan the room. There was only a casual gathering of other patrons. Which didn't surprise her, given the night of the week. She set her sights on the bar, and within moments, she was perched upon one of the red leather stools. She shrugged out of her coat, and let it fall over the back of the chair. White and black wool, in a houndstooth pattern that matched the black pencil skirt and white blouse that she also wore.
"Amaretto sour," she requested, not looking up from where she was fingering through her wallet to find her ID. She doubted she would have to do little else to catch the bartender's attention, given the sad state of occupancy. She slid the driver's license across the bar where it could be picked up. "Also, can I smoke in here?"
I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you.
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